Girl at the gloryhole

Ch. 1: My first visit to the gloryhole

Of course I want to make long, beautiful, satisfying love with someone who cares about me and who makes sure that our time together in bed is fulfilling for both of us. I want sex with a person who knows my body well and gives me what I want. I want someone who's body I know well too and I also want them to have great sex. I want lots and lots of orgasms. And yeah, I'd like to find a guy who will commit to me for life and who I can commit to as well.

But, when I'm lying alone in bed, my fingers playing around downstairs, my recent go-to fantasy has been about anonymous sex. Sex where I don't know who my partner is and he doesn't know anything about me. Where we use each other's bodies but neither of us has to worry about the other since we'll never see each again. Sex where no one will judge me since they don't know who I am and I don't know who they are.

One of my favorite images is of me lying on my back in bed with my knees lifted and my thighs separated. I'm fully naked but my face is covered by a towel or something. He--someone I don't know--climbs on top, quickly enters me, and pumps away. Physically of course, it wouldn't actually be very satisfying sex but mentally, thinking about being fucked and not knowing who it is who is fucking me, leads me to an explosive climax. Of course, it's my fingers that actually do this as I imagine what this anonymous fuck would feel like.

Other times, as I lie there, I close my eyes and picture myself standing in a crowd. Someone who is standing behind me, presumably a guy but I don't really know that, reaches around starts playing with my boobs. I imagine myself standing there and I use my hands to simulate the feel of him massaging and gently squeezing them and fingering my nipples. In my fantasy, I let him play for as long as he wants but I never turn my head to see who it is. Usually, it's enough to think of him touching me over my top but sometimes I want my fantasy groper to reach underneath. In real life, I rarely leave my house without a bra but in my fantasies, I picture myself braless, allowing him full access. Once or twice, I thought of what it would feel like for him to unhook my bra, take a quick feel, and then leave me standing there with my bra unhooked and my breasts swinging freely covered only by a thin t-shirt.

Despite how I get off thinking of these scenarios, I've never done anything to bring my fantasies to real life. The closest I've come to anonymous sex would be one night stands or an occasional quicky. These weren't really anonymous since I met the guy beforehand and I agreed to whatever it is we're doing. I admit that there have been a couple of mornings where we've had to re-introduce ourselves when we wake up but it's still not the image in my fantasy.

Let me emphasize, there's no force in my fantasies--it's all consensual, even the strangers who grab my boobs do so because I let them. No, my fantasy is just lots of sex with people who I don't know. One way or another, I've agreed to have sex with them. I just don't get to know who they are before, during, or after.

The main thing stopping me from pursuing this fantasy and some others that I have, is, of course, my concern for my safety. But also, I'm stopped by my fear of career and social suicide if anyone found out. I'm afraid of what the school board and my students' parents would think of a teacher doing some of the things I fantasize about. I worry about how my own parents and my friends would react. I'm successful at keeping a fairly conservative public image but it comes at the cost of some frustration.

* * * * *

A text I got from Alicia last summer made me very happy. She was an old friend from high school who I hadn't seen in a couple of years. With her husband Matt, she was going coming to a city near me to visit her brother Charlie. Alicia and Matt were high school sweethearts who, to no one's surprise, got married. I had met Charlie but didn't know him well. I jumped at the opportunity to see old friends as well as to get away from the confining feeling of the small town where I lived and worked.

It was a typical reunion of old friends who only rarely get to see each other. Lots of catching up about our current lives and memories of things we had done when we were younger and crazier. I was updated on where some of my other classmates were, including marriages, divorces, and one prison sentence.

As the bottles of beer and wine disappeared, conversational inhibitions went with them and the memories and our discussion of them got sort of smuttier. We laughed at guessing who in our class had lost their virginity when, where, and with whom and who was still a virgin where we left school. Even helped by all of the wine we had gone through, I could barely believe it when I heard myself telling them one of my great secrets. I admitted that I had finally gone all the way with my then boyfriend on the afternoon before the graduation ceremony. Hey, I didn't want to leave high school still holding my v-card.

Charlie seemed to enjoy the conversation but he was mostly quiet since, being three years older than the rest of us, he didn't know most of the people we were talking about. Matt tried to bring him back into the conversation by asking what he remembered as the best story about sex among his high school classmates.

Instead of answering immediately, Charlie finished his beer and got another one. Not looking at anyone he muttered "I can't believe I'm telling this story with my little sister in the room." Alicia told him that with that intro, he couldn't stop now, so Charlie leaned back and told his story.

Like me, Charlie was approaching graduation and was still a frustrated virgin. I thought that this might be why he had hesitated to tell the story but it turned out that it wasn't even close to the reason. He described a weekend where he was partying at the house of a friend whose parents were out of town. Lots of high school boys so it was beer and talk of sex. One of the guys claimed to know about a gloryhole at a truck stop where girls would give blowjobs through a hole in the bathroom stalls. High school boys, beer, talk of sex, plus Charlie's virginity hanging over him, meant that there was no question of him trying to organize a field trip to the truck stop.

His friends all bailed on the idea but Charlie was desperate enough to give it a try. A week later he drove to the place, went into the bathroom and checked the stalls until he found one that, honest to God, had a hole placed strategically in the wall to the next stall. He said that he sat there for almost an hour and was thinking of giving up when someone sat in the next stall and a finger came through the hole and gestured for him. Teenage boy, right, so he didn't hesitate. He dropped his pants and stuck it through the hole.

The three of us stared at him as he opened another beer. "Okay," Matt said, "you can't stop there."

Charlie gulped down his beer, looking furtively at his sister. "Okay, it was my first blowjob so I didn't have anything to compare it to but she was great. Of course, there's no such thing as a bad one."

Difference between boys and girls, I guess.

Alicia's face had turned bright red. I just stared at Charlie but Matt looked like he was ready to bust a gut. "She? Man, there was no way that was a woman. You got blown by a gay guy."

That opened up an argument between the guys about whether it was a guy or a girl while Alicia and I just watched. Charlie continued to insist it was a girl but he was finally outvoted by the rest of us who told him that girls don't do gloryholes except in porn.

As the argument continued, I felt myself getting wet. I pictured myself on my knees taking on all comers at a gloryhole. Lots of sex with lots of guys and totally anonymous? It was a thought that wouldn't go away as the party wrapped up and I went to the motel I had booked for the night. As my fingers brought me to a very satisfying climax, my new fantasy image was being on my knees in a bathroom stall, going down on strange cocks poking through the wall to me on after another.

The idea of a gloryhole was intriguing but my fantasy of anonymous sex ran smack into my old dread of the consequences of what might happen if I was caught. What if I was arrested? What if the guy I was blowing turned out to be someone who would recognize me. What if he was the parent of a student and I had to face him at a parent-teacher conference? Despite these fears, the more I pictured myself at a gloryhole, the more I wanted to try it. But, finding a way to do it safely was going to take some research.

My first thought was going to a truck stop like the that one Charlie had described. There was a big one on the freeway a few miles from my house. But, I shot that plan down quickly since I assumed that the holes, if there were any, would be in the men's room stalls--a safe assumption. That meant that a woman would have trouble getting in without being noticed which added to the chance of being caught. As the three of us had told Charlie, any guy getting a blow job at a truck stop was probably not hooking up with a woman. With some disappointment, I was forced to decide that if I was serious about going to a gloryhole, the truck stop wasn't going to do it for my fantasy.

So, the wonders of the Internet--I went into the incognito mode and did some targeted searching of cities within a reasonable distance. I found a couple of websites with maps of alleged gloryholes and was able to then search further on the specific places. One was Emily's Books & Toys, an adult bookstore in a city a couple of hours away. Besides the retail business side of the store, it also advertised individual stalls for viewing "adult movies."

If I was going to do this, and I really went back and forth on how much I wanted to make my fantasy come true, going out of town was going to be a good idea and an adult bookstore was probably safer than some other places where I might try to be anonymous. After checking out a bunch of other websites, I came back to Emily's Books & Toys and decided it was my best bet.

Summer break was coming to an end, so I needed to move fast. I told a couple of friends that I was doing a weekend road trip before the school year started and I gave a couple of touristy places past my real target. I figured that would cover my drive there in case I ran into someone.

I checked into a mid-level motel close to Emily's Books & Toys and did a drive-by of the place. The store was located in a strip mall and, from the outside, you couldn't really tell much about it. I decided that I'd have to check out the inside but, balancing my fantasy and my fears, I wasn't ready to commit myself to more than looking. Parking my car and walking to the door, I knew that there was a possibility that I was lying to myself.

My initial impression when I entered the store was just that it looked like a boutique. The front area had some mannequins displaying matching bra and panty sets. They were on the risqué side but nothing that I wouldn't wear on a big date when I expected that someone else would remove them. There were a couple of cash registers, one of which was staffed by a clerk with a forced smile as he rang up a customer. I wasn't surprised to see that the customers were mostly men, ranging from a group of three fraternity bros to a stereotypical dirty old man. There were a few couples wandering around including one where the woman clung tightly to the guy with an overwhelmed expression on her face. I was surprised to see another single woman and she smiled shyly at me as we passed each other.

Past the mannequins, there were various display clusters that were demurely faced away from the entrance. I walked around the first display wall and found a collection of dildos that gave immediate confirmation that I wasn't in my neighborhood boutique. There was something for everyone--different sizes, different shapes, different colors.

Exploring toward the back displays, the goods offered for sale seemed to get kinkier as the distance from the front door grew. One area had displays of lingerie but also had a locked case of breast forms--different sizes, shapes, and colors--I guess for crossdressing? There were toys I'd never imagined let alone seen. I didn't' need to play with these toys to get aroused--just looking at the display was doing the job.

The last display area was for BDSM toys. No judgment--I'm pretty willing to try new things so I've been spanked a few times and was tied to the bed during sex one time. But wow. Some of the things I examined were on the couples-playing-at-being-kinky scale but a couple of them looked like they were hard core and could do some real damage. I was amazed at the range of nipple toys that were offered. They ranged from novelties that looked more symbolic to heavy clamps that looked like they'd permanently crush the nips. I shuddered at the thought of what these could do but I was drawn to a pair of clamps that could be adjusted to comfort (or discomfort) without causing permanent damage. Feeling my nipples starting to come erect, I put these clamps in my mental cart as a maybe sometime.

One side of Emily's Books actually had a rack of books and magazines. Given what's available online for free, I'm surprised that people still buy these but evidently, there is a market and there appeared to be something for everyone. The titles and cover pictures showed a range of tastes from stepmother sex to shaved pussies to group sex and same-sex activities.

Past the book display, I finally spotted what had brought me here. An open archway was labeled "Emily's Theater" and I figured that is where I'd be likely to find my gloryhole. Glancing around to see if anyone was watching me, I made my way there, still thinking I was just going to check it out. Yes, there certainly was still a possibility that I was lying to myself.

Of course, the "theater" wasn't a single big room but was instead divided into small, individual viewing areas. These didn't have doors but they had been laid out in a way that the entrances didn't directly face each other. What looked like a random pattern was actually open enough that people (probably) stayed within some behavior limits while still giving some privacy to the clientele. A middle aged man was at what looked like an ATM on the wall near the entrance. He was feeding in dollar bills and getting tokens in return. I looked around but didn't see any obvious cameras or other security set-up. I assumed that something had to be there somewhere and was torn on whether this was good or bad. Safety, yes but anonymity, no.

Finally, I checked out one of the small viewing areas and immediately saw a large video screen mounted on the wall, set to show a menu of the available entertainment. There were a couple of plastic chairs facing the screen, a paper towel dispenser, and a garbage can. There was no gloryhole though so I moved to another area toward the end of hallway. In the third stall I checked, I finally found what I was looking for.

There wasn't anyone in the room so I was able to check things out. Besides the video screen, there was a hole that was maybe two and a half feet from the floor level, in the middle of the side wall. It was about two inches wide and I wondered about whether the guy on the other side would be able watch me through it and what else he might stick through it. My fantasy, my goal for this trip, assuming that I didn't chicken out, was giving anonymous blowjobs but maybe it could be more. Maybe?

I hung out in the room for a while I wondered if I should just let my fantasy remain a fantasy. I glanced through the menu on the video screen but nothing appealed to me enough to want to pay for it. My arousal level was growing but I was caught between my fantasy and my fear of the reality. I thought about taking off for now, going back to my motel, and coming back later, maybe after a few drinks. I also thought about just getting into my car and heading home. No surprise that the sense of fullness in my midsection was pretty high after my tour of the store and I found myself going back and forth on what I should do.

I had made my trip here with a plan and this was my best chance to find out what anonymous sex would really be like. I admitted to myself that it was probably now or never and that if I left Emily's, I was unlikely to come back. I thought about maybe buying a couple of toys and heading back to my motel where I could practice safe sex with myself.

If I hadn't heard the voices of the frat bros I might have chickened out. They had taken over the viewing stall next to me and were having a deep intellectual discussion about the anatomy of the women in whatever it was they were watching. I listened to them for a few minutes wondering and worrying. Finally, I took a deep breath and made my decision.

I pulled my top over my head, then sat down to remove my shoes. My heart was racing as I took off my jeans. I hung my clothes from a hook on the wall and shivered from both fear and excitement. I stood toward the back wall for a while, wearing nothing but my bra and panties, while listening to their debate about whether her breasts were natural or if she had received surgical enhancement.

The opening to the room meant that, if anyone walked by, they would see me but, since the gloryhole was (intentionally, I assume) located on the back of the hallway, someone wandering by was less likely. Plus, did I care? The chances of running into anyone I knew wasn't zero but it was pretty slim. The risk of being seen was just adding to my excitement so I finally reached behind and unhooked my bra which I added to the clothes on the hook

If someone did see me, they probably would have realized my arousal level. My pale blue panties showed my wetness and my nipples were at full attention. The heaviness in my midsection wasn't visible but I certainly knew it was there. I shivered and decided I was ready to move to the next stage of turning fantasy to reality.

As I knelt down in front of the hole I heard them come to a consensus that the movie star was all natural. My online research described a "come hither" move of sticking your hand through the hole and signaling the person on the other side of the wall to join you. My fingers were recently manicured with an orange flame over a red base. I gave myself one more time to wonder what the hell I was doing, then I put my hand through the hole and gestured.

My random fear of what if they didn't notice me or didn't respond was erased by the "Hey! Check that out" call from next door. I couldn't follow all of their discussion but it seemed to come down to "What the fuck?," "Who is that?," What should we do?," and finally "Okay, who goes first."

I don't know if they played rock-paper-scissors or what but it didn't take long for a cock to come through the hole.

My excitement was from the situation and not from the cock. It was nothing special. Not too long, not too short. It was wide enough that I probably would have enjoyed the feel of it pushing into my vag but not so wide that it was going to hurt my mouth. I took hold of it and ran my fingers along the bottom, checking for any signs that I shouldn't do anything with it. It looked okay so I did.

I started with my go-to blowjob move. I licked the underside slowly from the base to the top and returned to the base to repeat it. I did that several times and he became fully erect. Then, remembering that I was going for quantity instead of quality, so instead of playing, I took him fully into my mouth and moved up and down on him. Only the shaft was reachable through the hole so I couldn't play with his balls the way that I would have if we were in bed.